Scar's Divine Comedy
by BLOC V.X
Summary: Returning back to Ishval after the Promised day, Scar is taken on an adventure through his religion's mythology. Crack, humor.
1. Inferno

Scar and Miles could see the Xervan mountain range in the distance, rising up against the setting sun like an archeologist in Egypt.

"It looks like the road is blocked up ahead." Miles said, and Scar bobbled.

"We'll have to go around, else we'll be late to arrive in Ishval." He said, pulling out a map. He traced their path so far with his finger, as though he were playing Bejeweled, and found another road they could take. "Here, there's a path up ahead which is only just longer than ours."

Miles agreed it was the best course of action, and when they reached the fork, they took the right instead of left. This led them through a forest as dark as a basement, as out of place in the region as snow on Mars. However, though was no choice to be had, as they needed to reach Ishval before the holy day of Wishvala was over, though it wouldn't start until sunrise. It wasn't long before there was another interruption, though, as they were stopped by three chimeras, and Scar wondered if they'd wandered into a bad joke.

"Halt!" One of them, who seemed to be humanoid at least, yelled. "What's the password?"  
"We don't have time for this," Miles said as he drew his weapon more smoothly than Bob Ross, "Let us pass or you'll be arrested."  
"What's the password?" He shouted again, in a higher pitched tone like a flute. "What's the password, halt?"

Miles swapped his snow-goggles for opera-glasses, and noticed the chimera was beaked with fur. "Scar, this is no human, but a parrot crossed with a bear."  
"Sounds beastly, should I blow it up?" The Ishvalan asked, but Miles shook his head.

"There are at least two others of the same make and model here, so it's better if we just run like we're allergic." So they ran as though touching the chimeras would result in rashes and hives.

"Halt! What's the password?" Came a cacophony of parrot voices, as the three dropped on all fours and gave chase. "Halt!" They continued to yell, and they were so frightening, more frightening than a ceiling collapsing on you while you sleep through a hurricane, that neither Scar nor Miles noticed at first when they grew more separated than Mario and Sonic.

Scar was well clear of the chimeras when he finally caught his breath and turned around to find his escort was gone. The sun seemed to have set already, like a child to bed past midnight, but it was really just the dense foliage blocking all light. Scar grabbed a large stick, and used it to feel around and make sure he wouldn't fall on his face or caboose.

"Miles! Where are you?" He shouted into the trees, but the only reply was the sound of wind rustling leaves, which rustled his jimmies.

So Scar walked on, through the forest, knowing that he'd eventually find the edge if he continued, straight as a married man in Russia. Before he even managed to grow tired and need a rest, he'd grown bored of this system, however. "If I don't find Miles, I'll be late to Ishval." He continually muttered to himself, like a person who had no pen when shopping.

He eventually saw a light, illuminating the area around like a old video game's draw distance, and waved towards it. "Hey!" He shouted, "Miles, is that you?" The light continued moving closer, and he saw it was an Ishvalan, specifically, an old man he'd never seen before, wearing the robes of a cleric.

"Scar, do you know who I am?" The elder asked him, and he shook his head.

"No, I don't. Will you be able to get me out of this forest, though?" He asked, "I must reach Ishval before tomorrow is over, for Wishvala."

"Don't worry about that, Scar, it's not the important thing at the moment." The figure said, and Scar looked at him with an intimidating expression, like he was dropping a load.

"I don't know you, but if you know my name, there's something wrong here. Who are you?" He asked like a mobster in New Jersey.

"I am Alim Lofte, Grand Cleric of Ishvala." He said, and Scar raised a fist.

"The legendary Cleric who spread Ishvala's teachings throughout the desert, and wrote them in the words of men? I don't believe you, that man died more than one hundred and fifty years ago- He's older than the dirt I grew up on!"

"Lower your fist, child, I'm not into that." The old man said, "If we must come to blows, the words I transcribed for my Lord and my people have been wasted, utterly." He handed Scar a lamp of his own, as the meaty one unclenched his hand. "Wishvala is tomorrow, but there's no rush, for time moves slowly in the forests of sinners."

"Oh, okay." Scar said, accepting that a crazy man is a better companion than none. 'I'll have to humour him until we find Miles.' He thought. "Do you know the way to Ishval, though?"

"Of course, Scar, for this is Ishval- The holy land is under your feet as we speak."

Scar sighed, but accepted once again that he was insan. "Let's just go, old man." He said, and began walking.

"Which direction is that?" The Cleric asked him, and he stopped. "Exactly, one such as yourself can't possibly know! You must follow me." The elder walked in the opposite direction, and Scar followed him like a Roomba on a leash.

Before long they heard some quiet talking, whispers really, until Scar couldn't resist the suspense any longer, feeling like he was at a Hitchcock film. "What is that sound, old man?" He demanded to know, and the elder shook his head.

"The unfortunate Ishvalans who refused to stick up for their beliefs." He said cryptically, but gave no other information.

Scar could see movement in trees near them, and his eyes widened as he stretched to tell just what it was, barely lit up by the lanterns. It seemed to be a fleshy monster, reminiscent of whale blubber, with limbs and head growing out of his, but he realized it was just a creepy bush, and not the presidential kind.

"Not all forms are so lucky." Alim said, before forbidding him from trying to again glimpse the suffering dead.

They eventually reached a river, roaring like a lion gripped by a fire ant, and Scar saw a boat.

"What's that?" He asked, and was tempted to strike the elder when the only answer was "It's a boat."

"Act cool, or he won't like you." The cleric said, as they approached the wooden bulk. "Oi, Charon! We need passage."

An old man, who seemed to be Amestrian, looked up from the newspaper he was reading, still wearing the scowl he gained from hearing about the coup several weeks ago, and let them on board. "Aren't you two living still?" He asked, and the oldie shook his head like he intended to whip it off.

"I'm dead, he's not, but has good reason for crossing over the Lymps."

"Hold up," Scar said, grabbing the cleric's arm like you'd grab a baseball, "I don't have any good reason for seeing the afterlife, I need to get to Ishval!"

"Scar, you must see what death is, or you'll never be as Grand a Cleric as I!" Alim Lofte snapped like a guitar string, and again told the captain to shove off. This time he obeyed immediately, like a golden retriever, and kicked the river bank.

Before long Scar felt seasick, and turned to the railing so that he could release his lunch into the river. He saw a face in the water, though, and recoiled. "What was that?" He shouted, and Lofte ran to him as fast as an old man can be expected to run on a moving ship, so about as fast as a balloon falls from a tower.

"Oh, the faces of the dead? Yea, they're more and more every year." He said, and returned to eating grapes. "If it starts singing it's own lamentations, just throw a chair down there, that should shut it up."

Scar stood speechless at the supposed cleric's lack of empathy, but got over it quickly, remembering that crazy people are insane. Soon he heard the singing, and when he looked over the rail it was also signing in ASL, Amestrian Sign Language. Scar was caught in internal conflict- If he threw a chair at a dead man, that'd be cruel. But if he's in the river Lymps, he's obviously a sinner, so if he did nothing, he couldn't justify his killing alchemists. So he went below deck and took a nap, lulled to sleep by the combination of deathly moaning and beautiful singing, which seemed to emanate from somewhere above.

* * *

When he woke up, the boat had stopped, like Havoc's legs. He went above deck and found the Grand Cleric waiting for him, and they departed from the boat.

"Ah, so you're awake, scabbard." The Cleric said, and when Scar asked what he meant, he continued "Your power, used to fight heretical alchemists, is within you, making you the Scabbard of Ishvala."

"I'd rather be a sheath."

"You're not a sheath, you're a scabbard."

"Where are we?" Scar asked as he gave up on titling himself, and looked around. They must've been in a cave, for there was rock all around, including in the sky.

"We're on the outskirts of the Inferno."

"By Inferno, and since there's no fire, I assume you mean we literally went-"

"Grand Clerics don't cuss, Scabbard." The elder said, rubbing Scar's hair with nostalgia, wishing he still had his own.

"So using deconstruction alchemy isn't heretical so long as I use it to kill people?" Scar asked as he realized the implications of earlier statements, and grabbed the old man's hand and forcing it off his head.

"Oh, it's alchemy? Yea, that actually might be bad." The cleric said, saddened still by the lack of his own hair, "Though don't think of it as killing people, think of it as cleansing the earth, like a strong bowel movement!"

And Scar shuddered, as it hit him that he just came to the underworld with a lunatic. "The Teachings say the afterlife for sinners is surrounded by sorrowful limbo, so where's that?" He asked, and the crazy old man motioned to the ground like he just realized he wasn't falling from the sky.

"This is limbo, Scar!" He announced, and pointed around them. "There are some Amestrians who never accepted Ishvala over there, see?"

"Couldn't that be because we just fought a war with them over it?" Scar questioned, and the Cleric shook his head.

"Impossible, any reasonable person would recognize Ishvala as the truth of truths, the prognosticator of prognosticators, and not at all a glorified rodent." He said with a smile like a banana split, and Scar noticed the Cleric was bleeding from the lip, and the Cleric noticed Scar notice, and said "Charon didn't like me throwing his chairs in the river, so he threw one at me." And Scar smiled like a banana cream pie.

They walked further in, past all the Amestrians, and Drachmans, and Xingese, and Aerugonians, and so on, until finally they reached what seemed to be a wall, which glittered in the light of their lanterns.

Scar put his hand out against it, and found it adhesive and it made his skin crawl. "What is this?" He asked as he pulled away his arm, and found the wall bent somewhat before letting go of his hand, reminding him of flypaper.

"A spider web, of course." The Grand Cleric of legend said, lighting a cigar. And sure enough, a spider crawled down it soon after. Scar stepped back at the sight of it, shocked- It had the face of a man, and seemed to walk with dozens of legs, moving as swiftly as a taser. A beard dribbled down to the ground, and seemed to curl around Scar's feet like a ferret.

"Who dare to interrupt my scheming and works?" The arachnid demanded, and the Cleric stepped back one, puffing his cigar, leaving Scar to stand trial alone.

"I need to get to Ishval before the sun sets tomorrow!" He announced, and was peered at through nineteen eyes.

"Then, you're living?" The giant spider inquired, and Scar nodded. "I see. My job is to judge those sent here in death, and determine where they shall be punished. If you're living, though, there's nothing I can do but lend my hand in assistance." And he lifted the bottom corners of his web, to reveal a manhole cover sized gouge in the ground. "Use my web to shimmy down, like a firefighter, if you plan to continue. I warn you, however- It is wisest to remain here for eternity, than to head for certain death."

"One might say, 'abandon all hope', eh?" The Cleric said, but the other two just looked at him with pity.

Scar thanked him for the warning and help, and the two contradictorily slid down the sticky silk for several minutes, before finally reaching the bottom, a hot pit of death.

* * *

Their lanterns had gone out, but the light of the inferno itself continued to light their path. Up ahead Scar could hear the sounds of gambling. "Raise." "I fold." Coins sliding into a pot, jingling like Santa's sleigh.

"Ah, we're nearing the sins themselves." The Cleric said, and Scar could make out the silhouettes of a table and players. "It's best not to bother them, just keep walking. Pretend they're homeless."

But Scar couldn't continue past as though nothing was there, for he saw his nemesis sitting at the table. Greed dealt Lust two cards, and Gluttony called Wrath's raise. As he walked towards the table, Wrath noticed that his killer was there, and got up so quickly he spilt his drink.

"So, this is where you were sent in death, then?" He said with a smirk, and Scar laughed like a drunken apricot.

"I came here because I'm a bad enough dude to handle it, without dying!" He roared, before popping an ice breaker mint, which he grew up calling a 'chill pill'. "Anyway, I'm not here to kill you again, so sit back down."

"Listen to the 'valan, Wrath." Greed said, thinking only of the money he'd lose out on the chance to win if his brother left the game. "You've committed to this game, and now you've got ta' finish it."

Wrath reluctantly sat back down, but was dragged out of his seat by a giant lava-worm, which leapt out of the nearby magma stream and pulled him back in with it.

Greed got up, but wasn't quick enough to save him, and ended up just reaching across with table longingly, before getting back to the game to win Lust and Gluttony's wallets.

"Let's go on." The Grand Cleric of yore said, putting a hand on Scar's shoulder to calm him. Scar nodded, before lifting up the old man's hand, which had not only remained there for a time, but had begun rubbing him. "The city of Dat is up ahead- Even worse sins are punished there, so be prepared, like a Shakespearean lion." He continued, looking hurt. Scar nodded, and they went on.

* * *

The city of Dat was walled, but that fact was no problem for Scar, who just blew a hole in it, while Cleric Lofte clapped. To call it a city is an overstatement, though- Mud hovels are the best anyone living there can call shelter. Scar coughed in the dust from his partial transmutation, but once it cleared, he saw a fire up ahead, moving from side to side, and he heard a pained scream.

"Is that a demon?" He asked the old dude.

"I'd normally tell you to avoid it and move on, but I like drama, so…" The Cleric motioned towards the dancing flame, and Scar went to it with a sigh.

As he got closer, and his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he began to make out the shape of a man hidden in the fire. "I, I can't believe it." He said as he moved to take off his sunglasses, before remembering he wasn't wearing any. "Brother? Is that you?" He asked. Other than the continued screaming, no call replied.

"This is where heretics and those who commit heresy come to 'rest'." The Cleric told Scar, whom was immobilized. "Your brother Asafum did the taboo, and paid the price."

"No, he was just trying to help our people! Why should he be brought here, but not me?"

But the elder didn't respond to this, as the environment itself did, nightmarishly. Out of the ground came little hands attached to flat, infinite arms. The black hands, which were on fire, reached out from all directions to grab Scar, who dodged to the side of every last one. He turned his head to the side, to see if there were any that way, and his eyes widened at the sight of one coming straight for his face, as though it were preparing to say 'Got your nose!'.

The flame captured his entire conscious, and he stood there, unable to move, when it suddenly stopped before falling to the ground, like a bird with heart burn. He looked up, and saw Wrath with his sword out.

"It took awhile to kill that sea monster," He said, "But I finally got out of that magma stream. The least you could do is stay alive until I've had a chance to kill you myself, scarred man!"

With that, he lunged at Scar, who took refuge in a nearby house of mirrors, in which every reflection of you is terrifying and distorted supernaturally. For example, one mirror changed his reflection to make it out that he was bleeding ink from the eyes, while another made it look like he was eating a Hot Pocket. He kept his wits though, led Wrath through it, coming out the other side and perching himself above the door like a seagull.

It's lucky as a clover he did that, for as soon as he looked up to see where he was, he saw a massive chimera had just woken up, and was looking around as though he were wasted. He stood up on two legs, and Scar deduced from it's appearance that it was a human and bull combination. Wrath was not warned of it, and didn't think to jump up like Scar did, and so only just barely managed to avoid piercing the beast's leathery skin when he came charging out the door. It kicked him with a hind leg, and sent him crashing into a stone wall, and he stayed in it.

"I can smell your sins, homunculus." It calmly declared, and before noticing Scar and adding "But I'll deal with you later. You, Ishvalan human, you've sinned as well. You're also living. This has never happened before." He sat down, seemingly to think. "What is your name, Ishvalan human?"

"I don't have a name, just call me Scar. Tell me, is this a dead end?"

"Hmm, a human with no name?" The monster scraped it's head against a rock wall as it said this, "Then I must smell wrong- All living beings have a name, so you're either lying, or dead. Either way, I must drown you in lava, for that is my duty. Come down from that ledge, catman."

Scar obeyed, but when the chimera charged at him, he stepped to the side like a matador, and pushed it into the magma stream instead. "Sorry," He said, "but there's somewhere I need to go." He turned to Wrath and asked "Are you still planning to kill me?"

"Of course- There's an area up ahead which will do perfectly for our match, if you wish to be chivalrous about it."

Scar nodded, and was trying to remember what 'chivalrous' meant when he saw the Grand Cleric Lofte come through the exit of the building. "If I'm to be your guide, Scar, you'll need to avoid running off like that!" He snapped like a rubber band.

"Sorry, I was busy avoiding death. Which way goes forward, now?" He asked Wrath, who pointed to the wall.

"They put that in only a few days ago. I helped raise it myself." He said proudly, before remembering his name and repeating himself angrily.

"Alright, stand back." Scar put his hand against the wall, and after a breath, blew a hole the size of a truck into it. Light streamed in, and through the hole they saw a homunculus sitting on a lonely tree stump.

"Envy, what are you doing there?" Wrath asked, and he looked up at the group.

"Oh, hello Scar, Wrath. I'm just sittin' here. That's all."

"Alright. We're going to duel each other, you want to come spectate?" The former Fuhrer asked, and Envy rose from his seat and said "sure" before sitting back down and getting up tulip for good measure.

The four walked through the poorly lit tunnel for about as long as several shoestrings lined up one after the other, before coming across a foot in a boot lying in the path.

"Is this supposed to be here?" Wrath asked no one in particular, and the Cleric nodded.

"This is where the alchemist's Scar assassinated have come to remain. Their blasphemy couldn't be tolerated in any other location, so they suffer here." He said, and watched as Wrath threw the boot into the magma stream.

"Then, that was one of my state alchemists? I wonder which one." He said, but they didn't wonder very long, as an arm rolled towards them, and the hand on it's end pointed towards the darkness it came from.

"Come… Fuhrer." A whisper said, and Wrath obliged. "I've lost… My stitching." The homunculus recoiled in disgust as he beheld the jumbled mess which was once Shou Tucker, the Sewing Life alchemist. His body was all taken apart, with more than half of the major joints disconnected and the cloth torn.

"So their punishment is intended to be ironic…" He mused, and began to grow nervous and anxious, like a teenager asking another out on a date, as he considered those which lay ahead of them.

They quickly moved on, and passed a living corpse, which appeared to be rusting, as well as a silver statue at the end of a swinging pendulum, and was scratched by silver swords like a cat's claws each time it passed the center.

* * *

A vast emptiness seemed to consume the path, as it reached a cliff. The wall below was sheer, without any ledges one might use to climb down, and the drop so far one couldn't make out the bottom. It was pretty much the side of a box.

Envy sighed, but recognized his usefulness to the others, and transformed into his true form, but slightly smaller, and used the extra mass to create massive wings. "Get on." He hissed, "Ignore the moaning faces on my skin, they're just decor down here." And he sucked the faces on his back into his skin to prove it.

Reluctantly, knowing it was the only way forward, the three clambered onto his backside and held tight. As soon as they had, he jumped down, gliding at a sharp angle for most of the descent before flapping his wings to hover as soon as the ground came into view. This acted like a brake, and they managed to hit the stone ground without much issue, aside from Wrath nearly losing a spur on his cowboy boots, and the elder losing his cigar.

"Something of a design problem, I'd say." The Cleric said, "I'll have to ask the manager to fix that- Once you've gotten out of course, Scar."

"Are you ready, scarred man?" Wrath asked him, and the Ishvalan nodded. The path ahead of them was a series of bridges connected to monoliths of stone reaching up from the void below, where cries of torture could be heard, and heat felt. No railing protected against carelessness. Wrath ripped off and threw his eyepatch so hard it landed in the fifth void.

Wrath walked to the bridge over sixth void, while Scar stopped at the bridge over the fourth. They faced each other a moment, then rushed at once, meeting on the fifth.

"This is most certainly the greatest test he will ever face." The Grand Cleric declared to Envy, who stared at him a moment before asking "Who are you again?"

"I'm the Grand Cleric of Ishvala, Alim Lofte, scribe of the Teachings. Bow before my glory."

"Alim?"

"Yes."  
Envy pointed to the voids before them, and told the elder "Alim Lofte lives in the fourth void. I visit him sometimes, whenever I feel like improving my penmanship."

"Oh. He's in the Inferno?"

"Yes."

The elder's face was easily read to Envy as 'I've made a huge mistake', and since the old man seemed somewhat shell shocked at the bombs he'd been dropping, he turned his attention back to the fight.

Scar had by now destroyed both of Wrath's swords, but was bleeding, so some hits must've landed better than most paper planes. The two were over bridge seven, and backing up towards eight, when Wrath punched Scar in the stomach so hard they both went back a bridge. He'd broken his wrist, however, and Scar was able to rush back up before him, deconstructing the air in front of him so hard it blew back Wrath, who hit his back and head on a wall before falling into the ninth void, cursing Scar and his ancestors and his descendants the entire way down.

"I won't tell him, because I'm no better," Envy said, thinking of when he killed Hughes, "But if you don't let him know soon, you'll lose the chance to control the circumstances under which he learns."

"You're surprisingly wise, homunculus. May we never meet again." The elder told him while bowing, and went out on the bridges to meet Scar. "Let's continue on," He said, putting one of Scar's arms around his neck to help the victor with walking, "Envy is staying behind, to help any future travelers down that cliff."

As they passed the tenth void, Scar noticed a light which seemed to be blue, repeatedly going on and off from the bottom of the pit. "What's that light, Cleric Alim?" He asked the crazy old man, forgetting in his daze his companion was insane.

"Alchemy- Alchemists who died anyway other than yours are sent down there. They're trying to escape, perpetually, but they never will, rest at ease. They're trapped so perfectly Fred Jones feels like touching himself."

* * *

They walked for nineteen minutes before reaching another obstacle, another drop off, but no clownfish tank. Standing next to the edge was Sloth, who was peering over the side to the bottom. "Big hole." He said.

"Should we engage him in conversation?" Scar asked the cleric, who considered it, before accepting it was the only way forward, so they did.

"I think I know how to talk with youngsters, so let me handle it." The elder told Scar, before walking up to the befuddled homunculus. "Ahem… Yo dawg, you hangin' up 'round here?"

"Teenagers," Sloth moaned, "such a pain."

"Ah, so would you rather prefer a more stately address, my good man?" The elder asked him in a Cretan accent.

"British people are such a pain." He said.

"I don't think it's working, just let me-" Scar said, but the cleric shook his head ferociously.

"I'll figure it out. Ahem, bize yardım edecek misin, yoksa dün gece annenle ne yaptığımı bahsetmeliyiz?"

At this Sloth laughed, because he has no mother, and then punched the elder, knocking him off of the cliff. "Me waiting for Pride. Go away, peace." He told Scar, who managed to restrain himself long enough to walk away.

Alone for the first time since the forest, he was able to think clearly, and used his deconstruction alchemy to dig a tunnel like a glorified rodent, and let himself out at the bottom of the cliff, tumbling onto sand.

"How nice of you to join us." Kimblee said when he popped out, and Scar saw the Grand Cleric sitting with his feet in a lake.

"Ah, Scar, I was wondering when you'd get down here, and how, but that's less important. Mr. Crimson here just told me that the exit is at the center of this lake, and there's a row boat over there." The elder said, and motioned towards the boat. "We can take a bit of a rest for now, though, there's no rush."

"I'm sorry, Cleric, but there is a rush- I must return to Ishval before nightfall tomorrow, or perhap today, depending on the time. We'll have to shove off immediately, so shut up and pack your sandals." Scar said, and turned to Kimblee, "Are you staying here?"

"Yes, yes I am. Pride will be coming here, eventually, and I want revenge, so I can't leave my post. Just so you know how to get out, though," Kimblee told him, "There's a person at the center of the lake. Kill him, and you can leave."

"I thought everyone here was dead already." Scar said, and Kimblee just handed him his shaving mirror before sitting down to carve another torture device out of stone for use on Pride.

The two got in the boat and Scar rowed it 'till they came to what seemed to be ground, but when they got on it, they learnt it was ice. Together they slid to the center of it, where a lone figure knelt facing the ceiling. Scar recognized the robes, and approached the figure.

"So, this is where you went after that day." He said, and Father turned around.

"Ah, the scarred man, what a pleasant surprise. Would you be interested in some tea?" The homunculus asked, holding up a small saucer to reveal what he'd been doing. "Don't look so shocked, Ishvalan- This may be ice you're standing on, but the water directly below is more than boiling. I don't know why it doesn't melt, but it's perfect for having a nice and relaxing drink, don't you agree?"

Scar nodded slowly, and approached him cautiously. "Why are you being so cordial, Homunculus? It doesn't suit you anymore than a suit."

"Oh, is that so?" Father chuckled, and poured him a cup, "Well, I'll try to kill you in a few minutes, if that would please you. Would it?" Scar nodded. "Alright, I've a little power left. Just barely enough to live for a few years, drinking tea, but going out with a bang's not so bad either."

"If you keep talking so kindly, I'm liable to find you difficult to harm." Scar said, sipping his tea with a pinkie out. "I'd prefer if you'd act naturally."

The cleric watched them talk for awhile, occasionally checking his watch. "It's been a quarter of an hour, you two," He said finally, "If you wish to do battle, there's no better time."

"Just one more thing." Father said, "Why do you wish to kill me, Ishvalan? Revenge? Or perhaps just simple bloodlust?"

"I need to return home, quickly, and the only thing in my way so far as I can see is you. Don't take it so personally, you're no different from a locked door at the moment."

Father stood up, bowed to Scar, and created a sword from the iron in his blood. Scar jumped up and landed his hand on Father's face, and unleashed the power of his brother's research, killing the homunculus. The power of his deconstruction cracked the ice, and it separated from itself, forming a small platform of ice which the three, no, two were standing on, while the rest floated away. Father's lifeless body rolled into the boiling deep, where it was deep fried in the oil which floated at the bottom of the lake. To this day no one knows why the oil's at the bottom, but the corpse, and the sea creatures which feasted on it, found the oddity very convenient.

The bubbling water, finally free after so much time, released pent up energy like a geyser, shooting the platform of ice up through the rock ceiling, and filled the area with water, forming a small lake, the draining of which was prevented by rocks which had resettled after being jostled by the geyser.

The two Ishvalans, once the piece of ice floated to the edge of the lake, got back onto solid ground, and looked around themselves, and enjoyed the cool breeze.

"It took longer than it should have, but we seem to be back on track." Scar said, just before a sudden crack broke the peace. He looked to the side and saw the elder fall to the ground, dead, and from the trees came Miles, reloading his gun.

"I don't know what happened to you, Scar, but you should know better than trusting anyone just because they're Ishvalan." He held up a wanted poster, which had a sketch of the dead man's face in the center, and continued "This man has killed at least three, and robbed countless travelers passing through the woods we just came through. Be more careful from now on."

Scar stared in shock, first at the body, then Miles, then the poster, then the body again, before collecting himself. "Sorry, he must've caught me in a moment of weakness. It won't happen again."

"Good. It's over that mountain, right?" Miles asked, and Scar nodded. They looked at the mountain together, and saw what appeared to be a procession line of climbers, going all the way from the bottom to the top, not moving, but singing loudly and in an inspiring fashion. Scar recognized it from when he slept on Charon's boat. He wondered what had happened over the past few hours, but decided it was best not to dwell on it, and looked up just a bit higher, at their stellar view of the sky, filled with stars.


	2. Purgatorio

The two pushed on for nearly an hour before reaching the base of the mountain. There they met an old man who's joints creaked loud as stairs, and asked him for the best way past the mountain.

"The only way to pass is to climb over," The old man with golden eyes said, "For this is mount Purgatorio, where all come to purge their sins before ascension." And he scratched his bald head, wiping away the sweat which had gathered there during the spent coal hot day.

"Nonsense." Miles said with a tone of skepticism you would expect in a conversation about Roswell, "Purgatory is a religious concept, a part of the afterlife. Whether it exists or not, this mount it ain't."

"Oh, but it is! How else would the dead toil and climb, like ants on the new year's first morn, up the side?"

"Whether it's real or not doesn't matter- A Chinese knock off can be just as practical." Scar said as he put his hand on Miles' shoulder, before retracting it again as memories of the Grand Cleric sprang to mind. "What does matter is whether we can pass over it faster than going around."

The old man nodded, and Miles sighed, accepting that they'll just have to go up.

"Alright, let's go then. There's not much time before the clouds cover the moon, so we'll have to move quick as sound if we want to make any progress before setting up camp. I'd rather not scale in the dark." Scar nodded, and the two moved on.

As they moved up the stairs conveniently placed to climb the mountain, they noticed something odd. Everyone, it seemed, had tanned skin and golden eyes, like the old man they'd met, though here most had their hair, which was also blonde. All except for a small community off to the side, who appeared to be Amestrians.

"I think we've wandered into a cult." Miles whispered to Scar like empty bottles, and they both agreed it was creepy, but pushed on anyway. Motivated by the thought of leaving these peoples behind, they walked faster than usual, like children race-walking, and after passing an odd assortment of catapults soon reached a gate.

"Welcome to purgatory!" Said another bald man, this one with a mouth seemingly formed in size and shape for the exclusive purpose of containing a half loaf of bread. "Will you be visiting, passing through, or resting here like a lazy Mediterranean for the rest of your afterlife?"

"We need to get to the other side, to Ishval." Scar explained, resisting the temptation to knock a fist into the fat man's very punchable face. "By sunset tomorrow." He added.

"By sunset! Why, bless your heart, nones ever gotten to the peak so quickly as twenty hours!" He exclaimed, and laughed, but lost a tooth when Scar relented to his desire. After wailing like a baby for a few minutes, while Miles ate popcorn and M&Ms, he explained "You can't climb the mountain that fast, it's impossible! You'll have to wait for sunrise anyway- Only once you've heard the rooster's crow is it safe to go any further than nineteen steps from your camp!"

"And why exactly is it that this mountain takes so long to climb?" Scar demanded, and rubbed his hand after having using it to pop Miles' popcorn before.

"You can only climb in daylight, for ascension is only possible under the watchful eye of Leto himself!" The rolling man cried, looking for his tooth, "And you must purge yourself of sins at each gate before you can continue- A process that takes years for each sin!"

"No time, we'll have to bypass their system." Miles said, "But he's right about one thing. It'd be too dangerous to climb at night, so we'll have to wait like anxious readers of poorly written and serialized internet fiction."

They set up camp quickly, though they had no tent, so really it was just a backpack each for pillows. "Goodnight, Scar." "Goodnight, Miles." "Goodnight, you two." And they kicked the bald man out of their camp, and went to sleep.

* * *

The three got up at sunrise, and the two were platinum mad that the fat bald man was still there.

"Don't you have something better to be doing?" Miles complained when he accompanied them on the start of their trek.

"Of course not, I was just waiting around for someone driven like you two to show up. This way," He said with one of Koridai's faces of evil, "I don't need to purge anything, just by following in the wake of destruction you two are sure to cause- This duo you've formed is just a FastPass+ for me, Cornello, to meet the Holy Lord Leto!"

"You're worse than I thought." Scar said, and began coming up with a plan to get rid of him. Before he could settle between tossing him off a cliff or just deconstructing the very small amount of brain matter he contained, they reached the gate they'd seen the previous night.

"Welcome, brothers." An Ishvalan greeted as they strolled up like it was a Starbucks, "I presume you three are here to purge yourselves of sins and grow pure enough to meet the holy Ishvala?"

"Leto. The holy Leto, you surely mean." Cornello corrected, with an expression so smug that Donald Trump would cringe.

"Leto? The cult of Leto? Security! One got out of the Inferno again!" The Ishvalan cried, as Scar and Miles laughed, and Cornello tried to run away. The fat man tripped on his own coin purse and fell down the stairs, rolling to the out of view bottom.

"We're here to reach Ishval!" Scar declared, and not seeing anything particularly wrong with that, the guard nodded and ordered the gate open, while also handing the scarred man seven figs.

"For each sin you purge, hand one of these figs to the guard on that level, to move on." He instructed.

"Level? That sounds awkward in this situation- Wouldn't it make more sense to call it a terrace?" Scar asked him. "And why 'we gotta hand out figs, are we delivering water to guards as well?"

"It would, yes, but we don't want to use too much terminology from Wikipedia, now do we? As for your other question, this isn't the Pokemon world, but our guards do get hungry." The Ishvalan explained, and bowed to them as they passed through the hatch.

* * *

Inside the walled area was a mass of people, some of them wearing fancy and expensive clothes, others having no apparent possessions outside of a potato sack gown and a rag to wash themselves with, which disgusted the two more than Kimblee's past time. Painted on the entrance wall was a great mural, showing the expansion of Amestris, from it's foundation to the present, and even from the present to it's inevitable future demise. On the opposing wall, where an exit was located, was a mural depicting the fall of Xerxes, from a glorious and flourishing empire rivalling North Korea to an empty city of sands, which also came close to the aforementioned dictatorship.

The houses were constructed on one side of the level to be great mansions, condominiums, and suites, while the other half showcased small one level homes, simple apartments, and even a trailer park with a rusted water tower.

A Drachman dressed in a formal military suit approached the two, and greeted them with "Welcome to the proud town of Pride! Here we take pride in our heritage, our success, and most of all, our superiority over our low and humiliated neighbors."

"You could at least try not to sound evil, you know." Scar told him, "This place sounds like a poorly written allegory, and I'm not interested in hearing what the moral is. Let's go Miles, there's no reason to stick around."

"Wait! You haven't even tried our local cuisine, of which we're so proud!" The Drachman said, "Or seen our art, or feasted your eyes on our gardens! There's nothing here of which we're not proud of!"

"Are you proud of us, then?" Miles asked, and the man stared blankly for several minutes before responding.

"Of course not! I must rally the soldiers, you two must be evicted at once- To the town of Humility with you!"

Of course, once he left them they'd already started walking towards Humility anyway, as it laid in the half of the mountain level which had the exit, and both were eager to continue their trek upwards.

There, they were greeted by much of the town, a dozen of their nineteen inhabitants. The twelve prostrated themselves at the two's feet, and murmured such things as "We're unworthy of such visitors!" or "We apologize for the state of the town, it does not suit your presence!"

Of course, the two were plainly and visibly disturbed by this show of… something, and continued through the town before anyone noticed they'd gone. On the way to the exit, Scar stopped at a rotting tree trunk and wrote a scathing letter to the citizens of this town and of Pride, which went something to this tune-

"Your pride is overwhelming, for it's not pride, but hubris. Your humility is no better, for it isn't true humility, but excessive… something. You worship poverty over self improvement in Humility, while in Pride you see yourselves as the ultimate beings. May a plague ruin both your towns, and force you conjoin, for only then can I see either township improving. ~A Scarred Man"

He took this letter along with a nail and hammer, and posted it to the door of a church which stood at the border of the two towns, before continuing to the exit with Miles.

"Have you fully purged yourself of Pride, brothers?" The Ishvalan at the gate asked them, but Scar didn't answer, and just threw one of the figs at him before lifting the stone door himself.

"Odd. There's seven figs in my pocket." He noted to Miles, and they figured it must've been that the guard who gave them to him miscounted, like an officer who calls on an evolved Pokemon she doesn't have. This delay gave someone time to catch up with them, though, as they soon heard.

"Wait!" Yelled a voice behind them, and turning around Miles saw an Amestrian girl running towards them. "I saw your letter nailed to the church," She said, "and I agree completely, so please take me with you two!"

"What's your name, girl?" Scar growled at her.

"Rose. I'm from Liore, the same town as Father Cornello, but I must get out of these towns before it drives me mad!"

"Alright, if you'll promise to stop ending your statements with exclamation marks, I won't deny you our company." He said, and while Miles looked annoyed, he put up with it.

Now three, the group climbed the stairs laying feet from the gate, and began walking up to the second level of mount Purgatorio.

* * *

Now in the town of Jealousy, the trio was unable to find the next gate, as it eluded them like a pair of dry pants on a cold winter morning.

"This could be a bigger problem than Gojira if we can't continue." Miles said, and the other two agreed. "It can't be helped, we'll need to ask the locals for help."

Scar plucked a man from the street next to them, and demanded to know "Where's the exit, pleb?"

The man, at first holding a face of terror as he felt his skin burn under the glare of the Ishvalan's X shaped scar, soon began to feel terrible, and said "I wish I had the nerves to grab a stranger off the streets and make demands like they owe me something. The nerves!"

"Oi, d'ya want me to rock your guts, or are you gonna' tell us?" Scar again demanded, this time channeling his inner city.

"Easy there boy." Miles said, gently pulling the two apart, "We're passing through here, and just want to peacefully and quickly leave you to continue your regular day. Think you could help us out of this jam and into the peanut butter?" He respectfully asked the man.

"The nerves!" He marveled again, and this time Miles went at him, shouting profanities he learnt in boyhood, but hadn't used since. This time Rose pulled them apart.

"Please, I must get off this mountain before I lose my mind, please tell us where the exit is, I'm begging you!" She pleaded, and the man stopped thinking about 'the nerves' and began to wonder what he'd look like in a dress. Somehow Miles knew what he was thinking of, and shoved him onto the ground before calmly strolling away from the scene, his companions in tow.

"That was a waste of time," Scar sighed, "and we're no closer than before to advancing upwards!"

However, not all hope was quite lost, as they soon came across an old beggar sitting in the street, with a nearly empty hat on the ground in front of him. "You three seem distressed," He noted as they walked closer, "Would you like some tea?" And following this offer, he pulled out a tea kettle, as if to show it was more than small talk. Scar was cautious, worried that it may be Father back and in disguise, but the three graciously accepted, and sat down cross legged around him.

"Thank you, sir, this is very generous of you." Miles said as he sipped the hot tea, before plopping some coins and a piece of wrapped up bread into the hat, "We're lost, searching for the exit. Would you be kind enough to extend your generosity and give us directions?"

The old man chuckled, and ate some of the bread, leaving the rest in his pocket. He held up the hat with nearly nineteen coins in it, and asked of them "If you can deliver this to that run down old hospital down the street, I shall grant your wish."

Miles grabbed the hat and rose, then Rose rose, and the two left Scar alone with the beggar to keep company. The two discussed several things, most importantly though was the flavor of the week at Culver's, which was Rocky Road.

The two quickly returned, and the beggar did as promised, scooting to the side to reveal a small door hidden into the brickwork of the building he was leaning against. "This is the exit you seek, friends."

"There's one thing I don't get- Why did you have us deliver that money to the hospital?" Miles asked.

"That's why I have the hat, of course." He explained, "Generosity is the greatest thing in the world, so I spend my days sitting out here collecting donations for the clinic, and my nights in the same place."

"You need that money for food and water, old man." Scar said disapprovingly, and was about to continue, but Rose dragged him off of his soapbox and pushed him through the small door, thanking the old man again on her way out.

"We can't spend all of our time on your 'holier than thou' lectures, Scar." She said.

"What if this one led to another person joining us, like the one in Humility?" He asked.

"We can't spend all of our time picking up strangers, Scar. One is enough, and I'm that stranger." At this point Miles told them both to shut up and walk, so they did because he had the gun.

It wasn't long before they reached the gate, which was just around the corner after coming through the door. Scar was prepared to get through by force again and had already taken the fruit from his pocket, when to his surprise, the Ishvalan guarding the gate nodded with a smile, and accepted his fig before ordering the door opened. "To've come here, you must have donated to the beggar, and run his errand," He explained with a face of bliss, "and since we judge your generosity here, that test is all which is required, along with your fig."

The three had nothing to say to this, which is why this paragraph has no dialogue, and they walked through the opened gate with a day to day attitude of content. That attitude didn't last, as once they were near the next terrace, a peculiar and unexpected happening developed in Scar's pocket.

The cloth began to stretch and strew and skew, before bursting completely, and the three stepped to the sides of what had just come out. It was growing, changing rapidly like a blob of pudding, changing from purple to green to tan, sprouting hair and a leathery coating over some portions. Simply put, they found out that, after changing into a fig, Envy had stowed away with them.

Scar and Miles jumped into battle stances while Rose backed away into a nook in the wall, and fell backwards, stuck. Right before either attacked, though, Envy put up his hands yelling "Wait, wait! I'm not here to cause trouble, so don't tase me!"

"Then why are you here, homunculus?" Scar demanded, "You were helpful in the Inferno, I'll give you that, but there's a break in trust when you hide in someone's pocket for so long without telling them. And that's not the only thing that broke, either." He said, thinking in bittersweet remembrance of how useful that pocket was.

"Easy there! I realized when you were leaving the caverns that my time with you was the most exciting in ages, and couldn't go back to sitting around all day doing nothing!" He said, almost crying, then added "I also heard a rumour that the living world had season three of Spice & Wolf, is that true?"

"No, and we don't have Kizu or Despera yet either."

Envy cried a river, which became a small lake, though the wall around the second terrace protected it like a flood gate, and the lake was prevented from going down the mountain by boulders to either side, some hundred odd meters away.

"No, stop!" Miles shouted in vain, as the water swallowed up him and Scar. They floated to the surface, and began to laugh it off nervously, before remembering Rose.

"She's still stuck!" Scar cried out like his life was being written by Jun Maeda, and was about to dive down to rescue her, when Envy swam up from the bottom, gripping her arm.

"See? I'm on your side!" He exclaimed, hoping they'd believe him, and the shock of the situation, they did.

"Alright homunculus, you can come with us, so long as you don't lose your personality again." Scar said, "For now though, we need to continue working our way up the mountain- Terrace three is next. Is everyone prepared to continue?"

"No, I'm not." Miles said, "Why do you two seem to know each other, and what did I miss yesterday evening?"

"I'll write a book when we get to Ishval that explains it all." Scar said impatiently, "Is that all, or can we go?"

"You know how to read and write?" Rose asked, and surprisingly, no one bopped her noggin.

"You only need one of those to author a book, so it's irrelevant." Scar said stoically, like the Thinker, which is to say his tone was that of a person straining to release Thursday's supper on Sunday morn'. "It's time to go, anyone not ready can stay here."

"What if we can't swim?" Envy asked. "I mean, obviously I can, but what if someone else can't?"

"I'm leaving now." Scar said as he paddled to the edge.

"Wait! I can fly you to the top of the mountain, probably!" Envy declared, and Scar turned around, so he added "I think, maybe."

"There's no choice, it's nearly two hours past noon." Miles said with great reluctance, like one who procrastinates 'till the last minute before setting to work. "We'll just have to trust him, and fly up there like we're Ash bloody Ketchum."

"I feel like the rangers from Oblivia might be a more fitting reference in this situation." Rose said, before scrambling in the water to reach the shore, and got on dragon Envy's back along with the other two. Miles passed out goggles, before just passing out, and Rose and Scar tied him to Envy's giant neck. The great beast sprang off the ground with such force that an indentation comparable to a pallet of bread boxes was left where each of his four legs had been. Flapping his gargoyle like wings, he flew up, at an angle, circling the mountain three times, rising one level each time.

From all the crying earlier, his eyes remained blurry, preventing him from seeing a projectile shoot up from the mountain. The rock, for that's what it was, hit him in the wing, tearing a hole through it which regenerated quickly enough that he remained airborne, but slowly enough that altitude was lost. By the time he pulled out of his tailspin, the green dragon had descended to the second level. More rocks went at them. Scar searched the ground and spotted the catapults which were so unrelentingly targeting them, from the lowest levels of the mountain. The Xerxians had seen the homunculus, as well as had the knowledge that many of them had once fueled his existence with their souls.

In an attempt to make the onslaught end, Envy began shooting balls of flaming gas from his mouth, but while Rose worked to clear his watermelon sized eyes, his vision was still unclear, and the attacks, while they crippled the Xerxians and their catapults, also hit the first two terraces, setting the towns of Pride and Humility on fire, and breaching the walls of Jealousy and Generosity, leading to tsunami like flooding. Scar shook his head as he looked upon the destruction, and was reminded of the war in Ishval.

He had no time to gaze upon the carnage any longer, however, as Envy sucked his forelegs into his body's torso, and used the extra mass to strengthen and enlarge his wings, before flying upwards again, this time at a steeper angle. Seeing more catapults near the peak, however, led wyvern-Envy to land prematurely, and Rose had to catch Miles as the rope came undone, and Scar had to catch Rose. Envy returned to his regular form, whooping and yelling about how awesome he was, and watched as Scar, with expert aim, threw four figs at the guards below them, from the third level to the sixth.

"Is everyone alright?" Miles asked as he came to, and stumbled backwards when Envy used his arm, made into a knock off lightsaber, to chop the rope from around his neck.

"It seems like it," Scar replied, looking around, "and there's only one more level to pass through before we can reach Ishval."

"You're talking as though Ishval were at the top of a mountain," Rose said, "but won't we need to descend once we reach the top?"

"No. Ishval really, really dislikes the rest of Amestris, so they dug a giant moat surrounding their land, and planned to make it an island." Scar explained, "But they forgot this is a desert, so they couldn't fill the moat, so now it's just a mountain."

"That sound very… misguided." Rose said, and Envy had fallen over and was wriggling on the ground with laughter, hysterical at hearing of such stupidity.

"It's not important, let's just go." And they went.

* * *

The group entered the town of Lechery and Lust. It has two names, according to a sign at the entrance, because lechery sounds more manly than lust, and lust too feminine, so neither gender of the town's residents could agree on what to name it, and the compromise was the only thing preventing another schism like the one on the first level.

All around they saw men and women dressed in extremely modest clothing, which raised each traveler's brow, and Envy pulled one to the side to ask why they were so conservative.

"Why, perverts of course!" She cried, "You can never know where one might be hiding. In a trash can, or behind a building for orphans, you just never know! Why, why, you four must be perverts, dressed in such gaudy clothes!" And the woman ran away screaming, which led to the town square emptying faster than you can sing 'Undo'.

"Well, that couldn't have gone much worse." Rose said, before noticing a hand coming out of a window well nearby, and motioned to the others. The group walked over there, and found a young woman inside, Xingese.

"You've got to help me, I need to get out of here!" She whispered harshly, and the four nodded, used to it by now. "I'm returning to my homeland after a trip in Amestris," She explained, "But these nuts locked me up, and I've no way out!"

Sighing, Scar blew a hole in the ground, and she crawled out, thanking him. "Never mind all that," He said, "we need to continue, the same as you. Have you seen the exit?" She shook her head, but told them what she did know.  
"I think the reason their fashion is so prudish is because they're projecting." She said, "Thinking what goes on in their mind is normal, and in this place it actually is. If we can get them to reveal their true nature, we might have a chance to figure out how to leave."

"So the people decrying us as perverts are themselves the freaks?" Envy asked, and after she nodded to him he rolled on the ground with laughter again, tickled by the irony like it were down

"I understand. We need to be as vulgar as possible, so much that they can't resist?" Scar asked, while also grabbed Envy and forcing him to calm down. "I've got this." He took Envy into the building the girl had just left, and after they spent several minutes listening to what sounded like machinery tinking, he came out with a box.

"What's in the box?" Miles asked him, and lifted a flap. Inside he saw fabric, sewn into dozens of dark blue miniskirts.

"We'll pass these out," Scar explained, "and with you two wearing them, it'll spread, and soon the town's entire female population will be wearing them, trying to attract the men. It'll work. The men will be forced to reveal their lust, and somehow this is going to convince them to show us the exit."

"How?" Envy asked him.

"I didn't get that far yet. Girl, it was your idea, what next?"

"Hmm, miniskirts, lechery, yes, yes! Now we just need to figure out the next step, then we can profit!" She exclaimed, and Scar showed incredible restraint in not slapping her, and Miles judged that this moment alone justified bypassing the previous guard and gate.

They had no more time to converse, as the people of the town slowly began to return to their regular routines, as if nothing had happened. In his irritation, Scar kicked the box of mini skirts like a soccer ball, high into the sky, and while somewhere Mustang sneezed, the skirts fell out of the box and rained slowly upon the crowd of passerby's. Recognizing it was now or never thanks to his lucky accident, Scar ripped off his shirt in an attempt to overwhelm the people. It worked.

The crowd collectively lost it's mind. Envy changed into a beautiful woman, but no one noticed because he was currently the size of a raisin. Miles climbed up onto a roof and noticed that the crowd was staying in one half of the town, along an unnaturally straight line. 'This must be like in the town of Pride.' He thought, and looked to the center of the back half, smiling as his eyes caught sight of the door. On ordinary inspection it would appear to go into an usual house, but the line didn't lie, and he slid down the drain pipe to the others. He waved for the the others to follow him as he ran through the cobble streets. The four reached the door before anyone noticed Envy was gone.

As it turns out, one person did see him on the ground, and put him in a jar. This, combined with recently seeing a girl from Xing, gave him bad memories of being beneath Central with May Chang, and he fell asleep and had nightmares of Greed taunting him like he had when Envy was still just a child. To him, they were terrifying, but all who've heard him describe it find it adorable, like a sad Chibitalia.

The four decided to leave him as he was, and though they nearly didn't get through due to Scar being shirtless, which is the eighth deadly sin, they learnt that a fig, when thrown hard enough, can easily incapacitate an Ishvalan.

* * *

Upwards they walked, finally ascending the final stairs which led to Ishval. Behind them a heavy mist rose from below, the result of water which had flooded the town of Envy spilling onto and extinguishing the fires of Pride and Humility. Figless, and with two more heads than they'd started with, Scar and Miles heaved a sigh heavier than the gravity of black holes, as their heads became level with the top steps, and went higher and higher 'till the solid ground of the mountain's peak rested below like a sleeping infant.

All around they saw tents and buildings, made of clay and mud and brick, forming communities within the community, and a market, and the hospital and school. Ishvalan children ran around playing and laughing as they pretended to be soldiers in the civil war, which gained them belts across the backside once they got home. Surrounding the town was a wall of brick, like the ones which guarded the terraces of the mountain, but this one had no gate, and instead an observation deck was built into the top, like the great wall of Xing some two hundred odd miles to the east.

"We finally made it." Miles said, as Rose and the Xingese girl celebrated their taste in guides.

Scar smiled, a small one, like Fullmetal, but smiled none the less. "And the sun hasn't set yet either. We managed to make it in time for Wishvala!"

The four shouted and waved as they entered the town, and the people recognized Scar and welcomed him earnestly. The annual play of Ishvala, the only theatre production allowed in Ishval, was currently being acted, and the group settled in to watch.

It told the story of Ishvala, and it ran very late. By the time ended and the curtain was drawn like a caricature sketch, the sky was orange and purple with the setting sun's Ray of Light. Scar was led to a tent of his own by the current Grand Cleric of Ishvala, Logue Lowe, who gave him this wise advice.

"When you're going camping, bring a fork!" Scar would never forget such holy advice, not even in the senility of old age.

In his tent, Scar was about to start writing the book he'd promised Miles, when he found a bottle of the holy drink colohal, which was only to be drunk during such holy days as these. He downed half of it, and fell asleep lying on the ground, staring up through a hole in the tent at a sky filled with technicolour stars.


	3. Paradiso

When Scar woke up, he found himself laying down on a great sphere, like a large house's roof. Rose ran up to him, and he realized from her not falling off that the sphere was Earth. Scar jumped up like an Olympic jumper and looked under himself, relieved to find Ishval unharmed.

"Where are- No, what happened?" He asked Rose, who shrugged.

"I woke up, and the entire world was suddenly like this!" She exclaimed, windmilling her arms for effect. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, knowing we aren't kaiju or anything, causing major damage." Said Scar, as he closer inspected Ishval, a tiny portion of the land. He found that their bodies didn't actually touch the ground, but stopped at the atmosphere like a it were a force field. "What should we do?" Wondered Scar aloud, and soon he had his answer.

When he looked up, Rose had leapt from the planet to it's moon, and Scar saw much dirty dust arise, as a result of it not having any atmosphere to protect it. With no particular goal outside of returning to normal, he jumped, and landed so hard new craters were formed as if he'd stepped in mud.

"Come on, if we continue this way we may be able to learn what happened." He said, but Rose didn't hear him, for she was dancing around on the lunar surface. "Hey, it's time to go!" He yelled, yet still she showed no signs of having heard him. Scar was about to grab her, when he realized he didn't hear anything either, another result of there being no atmosphere.

'Think fast, and quickly!' Thought Scar, before settling on an idea. When Rose was facing him for a moment, he pointed down, and put his ear against the dusty ground. It tickled like a cardboard flap, but once she was doing the same, he yelled into the ground "It's time to go, we need to continue onwards!"

Rose jerked her head up for a moment, before going from frightened to annoyed, and shrugged with a sour face. The two continued onwards, reaching the edge of where the sun lights it up before either had much time to reflect on what had happened. However, when they stepped over that threshold, they fell like communism.

As they now know, the dark side of the moon doesn't exist. The reason it's dark is because there's nothing to light up. They fell straight down, and were moving fast as a skydiver, down the sheer side of the rock. With some difficulty, Scar managed to reach Rose, and grabbed her hand, so that they fell together. As they passed the bottom, they suddenly felt gravity change, and curved upward before falling towards what felt like the sky, which didn't exist.

Now in orbit around the moon, Scar knew only one way to break it, and as they came close to reaching the dark side again he kicked off from the ground, even harder than when he'd jumped off of Earth. As the moon split into two with a brilliant and dazzling explosion which could have put the Skywalker lineage to shame, the pair was sent spiraling through space a moment, before landing, hard, on their next layover.

"Ouch." Rose rubbed her leg as she pulled herself into a sitting position, while Scar stood up and began looking around for signs of life. He didn't look long, for nineteen men dressed in everything from robes to rags were nearby, and the throng gathered around the newcomer like ants to soda.

"Oh, a newcomer!" Exclaimed one of them. "He must be as ambitious as any of us, if he's here!" Exposed another.

"Where is this?" Asked Scar, "And if anyone says 'Mercury' they're losing teeth."

"Now now, don't be so hasty child! This is the land of ambitious folk, the ones who make the world greater through internal motivation!" A particularly suspicious figure explained, and rubbed the newcomer's hand. Scar look at him, trying to figure out why he seemed familiar, but couldn't make anything out from the shadow of his hood. In any case, he felt better after crushing the joints of the man's left hand.

The crowd began to part down the middle, as an even older man approached, who seemed to step towards Scar and death with equal stride. "What is your name, Ishvalan?" He asked.

"I don't have a name, but you can call me Scar." Scar replied, and thought he saw yellowed teeth smiling from underneath the first man's hood.

"I see. Scar, before you can tell us your story, you must first hear ours." Another man appeared, and gave the ancient speaker a stool to sit on. "My legend dates back to the twelfth century you see. My legend is quite old. The twelfth century was a long time ago." He had no chance to speak further.

"Old man, I don't have time to listen to your life's story, goodbye." Said Scar, as he and Rose began walking away.

"Fools! If you don't learn from the past, you'll never understand... The FUTURE!" And he cackled loudly, and watched as the hooded one chased after them.

"Scar, it's good to see you again." He said liked a mobster, and lifted his head covering.

Scar gasped, "Lofte? No, I heard from Miles that you're nothing but a fraud- But you're supposed to be dead!" Then he coughed, because the imposter hadn't bathed recently.

The old man laughed, before saying like a bad Disney villain, "This is Mercury, Scar! The land of dead, yet holy and ambitious! The only place for me to have ended up is here, for sure!"

Scar looked at him in horror, before setting his face to that of an action hero and gripping the old man's face with an outstretched palm.

"Hasta la vista," Said Scar, "Baby." And he shattered the false prophet as though he were made of ice, before turning and looking at the Earth, a blue dot in the distance, and whispering to himself "I'll be back."

* * *

After the two kicked off of Mercury, they landed on Venus. Here there was a small town, styled in old west, and the two had a drink at the saloon as a way of resting, as repeatedly leaping from planet to planet is difficult.

While they were there, Rose saw a man wearing clothes reminding her of Liore, and began to tear up as she thought of home. Scar didn't notice, but the man did. He walked over and offered her his handkerchief.

"Is everything here swell?" He asked with a heavy Texan accent, and she smiled. Around this time Scar passed out from his drink, as he was unaware it contained the same effects as colohal, and drank too much. While he was out cold, the two conversed, and left. Eventually, he woke up.

"Where's the girl I had with me?" He asked the barkeep.

"Why, you didn't notice? She was just romanced by a cowman!" Said the 'tender, and chuckled as he dried a drinking glass which was perpetually damp.

Scar was about to run out and find her, when he realized he didn't care, so he shrugged and left without paying, but did leave a tip. It was hot out, being so close to the sun, and so bright he was forced to wear sunglasses. As he walked through the town, looking for a good place to kick off from, he noticed a wanted poster for a bank robber, the same cowman Scar and Rose saw. He still didn't care that Rose went with him, though, so he just found a nice little crater and jumped out.

He only remembered after taking off that he needed to land somewhere, and began searching. Unfortunately, the only place he could see was the sun, which was so bright nothing else was visible. So he landed there.

It wasn't as hot as he'd expected. On the surface little was visible, with bright flaming gases rising into the air and dipping into the ground, if it can be called ground. One thing did attract his attention, however. A room with three walls, a floor, and no ceiling, with nothing in it but a table. He walked over.

The walls and floor, being made from panels of wood, burnt down immediately, as did the table. What was on the table remained, and he grabbed it. He found that they were three volumes, each wrapped in leather and almost thick. Opening one, it didn't surprise him to find the words of his god, for the they were nothing other than the three holy books of Ishvala, as scribed by the real Alim Lofte nearly two centuries ago.

He tied them together with his belt, for convenience, and ran through the flaming air to a spot he deemed fair, and kicked off.

* * *

Landing on Mars, he was nearly knocked out by landing head first. By the time he got up, they were upon him.

Scar flipped the first Ishvalan off and over, and tripped the next two, before punching the fourth. "I've not done any of you harm!" He cried, stepping away.

"Ah, a true warrior!" They cheered, and dusted themselves off. "This is the land of righteous warriors who died a tubular death, man." Explained one of them, "All four of us were defending Ishval from the Amestrians when we kicked the buck'. How'd you pass?"

"I'm still alive, as far as I know." Said Scar, as he looked up at a tall monolith which reached for the star. "I'll forgive you for needless violence, though, once you explain what that is."

"Oh, the frame!" Wheezed the one he punched, "It's said to show a vision of the greatest warrior of all if you look into it, but with the sun's glare, no one has ever been able to."

"What about at night?" Asked Scar.

"It's too dark to see."

"And at the twilight hours?"

"Listen, man. We came here because we was good fighters for the cause, not for any fancy ideas. Catch my Tokyo drift?" But the visitor did not.

Scar walked up the stairs leading to a platform directly in front of the great monument, and put on his sun glasses. The only vision he gained was that of himself, as the monolith was nothing but a giant mirror.

"What do you see up there?" Shouted the four, and Scar shook his head.

"Nothing, just myself!"

The group below began bowing down to him, whom they now believed to be their leader. "No wonder you showed such great restraint dealing with us, and acted so humble and forgiving afterwards as well! Long live the General King!"

But Scar ignored their raving, and scaled the mirror like a dragon, before kicking off from it's top.

He landed on Jupiter, a lonely place with only one person. He approached the figure, whom was wearing a robe, and found it was a Grand Cleric.

"Hullo!" He greeted Scar cheerfully, "I'm so glad another Grand Cleric has come here! I've been dead more than sixty years, and was beginning to think my being sent here was a mistake!" And he laughed nervously.

"I'm not a Grand Cleric, but what is this place? Don't say Jupiter." Asked Scar, preparing a fist in case the Cleric did say the J word.

"This is where the holiest leaders of Ishvala, Grand Clerics, come once they've died. Only the holy come here, though, so if any abuses their power..."

"Then where's Lofte?" Asked Scar, "Or the dozen other Grand Cs there've been over the years?"

The Cleric shrugged, and said "I've tried to figure that out the entire time I've been here, but there's just no way to know for certain." He grabbed Scar's arm and pleaded "Please, you seem like a good person! Repent all your sins and become a Grand Cleric! I've gone decades without seeing another person, don't make me reach 100 years of death under these circumstances!"

"Become Grand Cleric? I've done too much killing for that." Scar said as he put on his shades like a B-movie action hero with a hilariously tragic back story, and angst to spare. "There's simply no way for me to be accepted as that, or even for me to accept it myself."

"But you have the writings of Ishvala!" The Cleric cried like a gull upon noticing that which he carried, "Repent, and rejoice! There's no reason for you to remain as you are, not when there's room for change yet!"

Scar thought on his words for a moment, before pulling him off of his arm, as gently as he could considering it nearly triggered him. "Maybe." He said, "I've seen some unnatural things the past few days, and maybe that's the work of Ishvala, trying to tell me something. If it is, I don't know what it means."

"Then find out!" The Cleric shouted, before loudly humming the intro to 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight,' and watched Scar as he walked away, continuing his journey across space.

* * *

Scar went on, and eventually reached a new planet. Two men, sitting at a tea table, were drinking tea when they noticed him and waved him over.

"Welcome to our land of scholarly debates, gentleman!" Greeted the two. "Are you here to join us, or merely passing through?"

"I'm heading... Somewhere else." Told Scar, "My Final Destination is, as of yet, unknown. Can you help me?" Then he tied a string around his pinkie, to remind himself to stop referencing R rated action movies on sites little kids lie about their ages on.

"Figure out where you're going? Of course!" One of them got up and pulled out a chair for Scar, while the other poured him a cup of tea. "Now then, tell us what you know."

And he told them of all his travels, from being separated in the woods from Miles, to breaking the ice below Father, to climbing Mount Purgatory, and finally, of his trip from Earth to here, Saturn.

"Hmm, a wondrous journey indeed!" Exclaimed the tea pourer, "Perhaps it symbolizes something important to all mankind?"

"On the other hand," Countered the chair puller, "it could simply be an anti drug commercial, produced by PBS or BBC."

"Doubtful, he doesn't look like the PSA type. Maybe he's being shown something fantastic by Ishvala, on Wishvala, for the sake of some great, unknown purpose!"

And the two nodded their heads in agreement, while Scar wondered how long it'd been since either of them had last thought rationally. "If that's your conclusion, I should get going and see more of what's been prepared for me..."

"No, stay! If Ishvala has brought you to us, it was for more than just that!" The pourer exclaimed, and grabbed his arm. Reluctantly, Scar sat back down, but glared at him until he let go.

"You said the last place you went, a Grand Cleric was trying to convince you to become as he did? Surely that was not the ravings of a lunatic, but the well aimed message of God!" And the two nodded again harmoniously, like the Moscow Symphony Orchestra.

"Yes, you must become Grand Cleric and rule over Ishval, protecting the people with your warriors!"

"Peace, Noxus!" Apparently the tea pourer was named Noxus. "Ishvala wishes for peace, not warfare! The civil government is the place for a Cleric, not the militia!"

Scar interrupted "Shouldn't a Cleric, by definition, work under the Church?"

The three argued over what a Cleric's position entailed for hours, before coming to the compromise that a regular Cleric may work in any of the three, while a Grand Cleric must head the whole trio. Thanking them emptily with distaste, Scar went on, jumping off Saturn and onto the celestial sphere.

Despite what science tells you, the sun isn't really a star, at least not like other stars are. It's the largest by far. Covering the entire universe is a sphere, the inside wall of which has pinpoints of light shining through- These are what people see when they look at the night sky. Artists have, for millennia, painted these constellations, not knowing that they themselves are art, contrived by Ishvala's holiest, the angelic centurions.

Being that all spheres so far were inside this sphere, lined up on a level plane at the equator, there was no trouble in getting onto them. This one, however, engulfs all others by containing them, and so the side Scar was faced with curved outward, requiring him to find a door. This was accomplished through making one, and his deconstruction alchemy was very useful as he used it to deconstruct the edge of the universe, and climbed in, or rather, out.

Here was the city of Angels. All around him glorious light filled the air, which was silky smooth like chocolate milk, and lit the stars of the sky. Gilded and silver plated Roman styled buildings surrounded him, and he was stopped by an angel on their way to work.

"What's a human doing here?" Inquired the worker, politely.

"I don't know. I think I'm looking for something, but no one knows what." Scar told him, and asked where he was going.

"Work, of course!" Was the chipper reply. "Today I'm goin' to Earth, and doin' some good deeds!"

"Alright." And the angel left, shaking his head in disappointment while wondering who made that hole, and how much taxes would go up to repair it.

Scar saw what appeared to be some sort of army approaching, and walked over to it. "Why does heaven need an army?" He asked an angel, who appeared to be of the rank 'lieutenant'.

"Why, don't you know?" The gruff angel leading the troops said, "We're preparing for war! The serpent demon Dracohel is sure to awaken any day now and attack Ishval again, just as it did in the past!"

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Said Scar, "who's Dracohel, and when did they attack before?"

"Haven't you ever read those books you're lugging around?" The lieutenant angel demanded, annoyed. "Dracohel is evil incarnate, and lives across the desert from the holy land of Ishval! After creating alchemy, the most repulsive and disgusting form of blasphemy to ever be performed, he took an army of men from the north, south, east, and west, and attacked! Ishvala himself made a physical presence, the only time in history for that to occur mind you, so it's how Ishvala revealed his very existence to the peoples he himself created, and led the Ishvalans to victory, killing all of the alchemists and wounding the serpent dragon. This is why Ishval is holy land, for it bears the only tangible marks of Ishvala's presence in the entire universe! The wounded Dracohel burrowed underground, beneath a mountain, creating an Infernal region of death and misery, before leaping up into the sky, and disappearing on the other side of the desert. These events had been forgotten by humans for ten thousand years, before finally a man holy enough to speak directly with Ishvala, the first Grand Cleric Alim Lofte, was given the task of transcribing the history of the region, and of the universe, straight from milord's lips! Thus an organized church of Ishvala was formed, for the first time in hundreds of years, and this second church of Ishvala still stands to this day!"

The lieutenant angel's face had by now turned blue as a hedgehog, and he gasped for air as Scar asked him "Ishvala created the universe, it is written?"

"Yes."

"And Dracohel? Of what was he borne?"

The lieutenant laughed, and replied "Of course, in the universe there must be balance, so Dracohel was created by the universe itself, and by mankind's bad intentions, to balance the good and holiness of Ishvala!"

Scar nodded, before asking "But Ishvala created the universe, and mankind. Why give either the means to create such an evil?"

"Don't question such obvious truths, human!" He snapped, "Ishvala created humans with free will, as a great gift to you all! Don't take it to mean that he allows your creations with full support."

Scar wandered away, confused but annoyed. At one point he passed a group of angels listening to the news on the radio together, cursing Amestris for what they'd done to Ishval. In passing he made the offhand remark of "Welcome to the party, pal." What followed was a very painful ripping off of the string on his pinkie.

He eventually came to a large building, which rivaled anything in Ishval, possibly anything in Amestris, with stained glass windows and a giant bell at the top, arches and columns, and bricks placed with care. He strolled up to the huge doors and, finding them to be locked, blew one of them open with his partial transmutation. Stepping inside, he felt as if he'd been transported to another world altogether, rather than just having entered a building. And it was true.

* * *

All around him was a white void, like an asylum's cell. There was no apparent floor, but he didn't he fall, and his feet remained level. Directly across from him was a figure of pure white, meditating. Behind them was a door, with engravings of circles and triangles, along with hieroglyphics Scar'd never seen before.

"Are you Ishvala?" He asked the person, who made no reply. "Why was I let in here, and why did you lead me to this place?" Still no answer.

Scar blew his cool like it were da' bomb, and demanded "How long are you going to just sit there while I'm talking to you?"

Finally the figure stood up and seemed to look at him. Scar got an odd feeling, as if he shouldn't have said anything at all, and felt that the person wasn't looking at him, but something further away. He turned and saw that another great stone door, this one engraved with a stylized owl gripping in it's talons a limb, tied to which was ten books. He moved further to inspect it, before remembering the figure and turning around.

The white shape seemed to be motioning something with it's hands, and communicated unintelligibly like that for several minutes, and generally acting mentally challenged before finally speaking "Is it equivalent?"

Scar stepped back, unsure of what to say. 'What does he mean?' He wondered, but understood that he'd never understand. Knowing that, he tried to answer, but found his mouth was too dry, so dry it hurt to breath.

"Is it equivalent?" The white figure asked again, in it's deep voice, and Scar nodded his head. He felt a small gush of wind from behind, as if the great stone door had disappeared from all existence, and felt himself drawn towards the other as it slowly opened, like a magnet.

The white figure stepped to the side, allowing Scar passage, and he grabbed the edge of the door as he limped toward it further, feeling drained of all power. More, more it opened, and finally, when he was just able to peek around it, and begin entering, his eyes widened at what he saw, as he opened his mouth.

"Scar, wake up!" Said Miles as he shook the Ishvalan. Scar looked at him, with equal parts terror and confusion, as he desperately tried to piece together both what was happening and what had happened. "It was past dawn and you didn't rise, so the Grand Cleric asked me to check on you." Explained his companion, "What happened? Who attacked you?"

Scar began to ask what Miles meant, when the pain hit him. His entire body, but mostly his arms, felt as though they'd been put against a grate and scraped. He lifted an arm, and half of his tattoo, intermittently, was not there. Bleeding profusely, he shouted and fell off of his bed, and Miles held down his arm so that it could be inspected by the doctor, who'd come in after hearing shouts.

Half of the tattoo was destroyed, and it appeared that the skin it had been on, while not ripped off, somehow disappeared from existence without any violence. While neither understood how it'd happened, both knew that his alchemy would never work again, at least, not like that. He was brought to the clinic immediately, but passed out before leaving the tent. As consolation, there was at least no need to worry about Rose this time, as she was still safe in her tent.

* * *

"How are you?" Miles asked him, but got no response. After being treated, he'd remained unconscious for nearly two days, finally waking up the day before last. In that time he'd said not a word to anyone, instead appearing to think, though the subject remained anyone's guess. Some believed he was considering the nineteenth digit of Pi, but these accusations are unfounded.

"What I've been thinking of," Began Scar, and Miles looked up at the unexpected noise, "is the dream I had, before you came into my tent that day. I've been piecing together the chain of events, both in the dream and leading up to it."

"Does that excuse worrying everyone with your silence?" Asked Miles, before shaking his head and asking him "So, is there anything you can tell me about your wounds?"

"No, I don't know anything."

"What was in your dream, then?" Asked Miles.

"I think," Scar said, "I met Ishvala."

From that day onwards, with the muscles in his hands and arms being unharmed, Scar wrote. In his vision, he remembered seeing the owl with ten books. Alim Lofte had written three. While he didn't know where it was coming from, Scar often had thoughts of events, both in the distant past and far future, and began to record them, and organize them. All together, he determined there was exactly enough of these mysterious thoughts and convictions to fill six books. Rather than any of those, however, he began his career of a scrivener by writing, in detail, the story of how he came to possess this knowledge which belonged to the stars.


End file.
